


Becoming Void

by OfWhelpsAndWizards



Category: Legion - Fandom, Warcraft - All Media Types, Warcraft Legion, World of Warcraft
Genre: 30 day writing challenge, Anduin-Centeic, Cult of the Dammed, Dark Beings, Days 12-16, Descent into Madness, Do not take that lightly., Gen, Ghosts, Grief, He is listed as a major character, I tried to keep this 'real', Let's look at this; Anduin has used shadow spells before, Light Horror, Like Macbeth, Loss of Control, Loss of Faith, Mourning, Old Gods, Paganism, Shadow - Freeform, Shadow priests are getting more lore and more spells in legion, Shadowform, Shadowking!Anduin, Slow Build, Thank Google for Research, Varian is going to die, What is the one thing that could hurt Anduin other than Wrathion and a bell?, bad to worse, black magic, good to bad, seances, void, we shall also fight an old god
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:45:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfWhelpsAndWizards/pseuds/OfWhelpsAndWizards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tragedy hit the humans of Stormwind when their king died, and no one felt as much pain as the prince. After a long and hard road to physical recovery, the prince had still been dealing with nightmares of the Sha, the twisted bodies of Orcs, and Humans alike. </p><p>Varian's death would be of no help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Becoming Void

Becoming Void

.......

Anduin sat in grief as he watched the royal court bicker on what the next course of action should be taken. Many Gilneans vouched for King Genn Greymayne to become the new leader of the Alliance, he was the last remaining King, albeit he had no kingdom and was the last racial leader to join the Alliance. Elves vouched for Tyrande; as she had fought the Burning Legion twice before. The Gnomes and Dwarfs stayed to their lands, wanting to focus more on their own internal politics. Lucky them thought Anduin.

Most wanted Anduin to take up his father's mantle, as he had when he was ten.

No one asked him what he wanted, his dreams in life, or offered him sympathy during his mourning period; he was a prince, he should show strength at all time. He was to be a role model for society; steadfast, strong, and faithful. Anduin felt like none of these things. He wanted to close himself off up in his tower, lie in his bed and let it all out. When he was a toddler his father was in such a state of depression that he ignored his own son, when Anduin was a boy his father disappeared, and reappeared a hardened, half crazed man when Anduin began puberty. From then on his father had gone from campaign to campaign until they finally reached an intervention in Pandaria where he fell into a deep passionate love for a certain black dragon. Too bad it took the young prince breaking every bone in his body to do it. Just as their bonds were mended. Just as they began to act as father and son. Just two years was all Anduin got with his father. 

How was that was enough?

The prince's recent state of depression went unnoticed to the majority of the court (very unnoticed to the young hopefuls wanting to become queen in this exchange of power), however priests at the cathedral saw the difference in the intensity of Anduin's holy spells. The prince still attended every Sunday mass, and healed the sick afterwards, and say his prayers before bed. But his spells did not hold their usual radiance, he did not put forth the regular vigor into their utterance. Sitting at his regular pew, Anduin bowed his head as the High Priestess approached. 

"Good day, High Priestess Laurena.;It was a lovely sermon." Anduin cooked his head to the side and looked left as he did so. The priestess sat down beside him, and laid an arm on his shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Child, I believe you are filled with doubt during this troubling time. When a loved one passes, no one is hurt more than the family of the deceased." He flinched at the last word, why did everyone bring it up? Was he not safe even in this 'sanctuary?'

"It's just… I barely knew him. It was like I was watching him grow into a king as he was watching me grow into a man. The surviving soldiers say he was writing a message before the ship crashed into the Great Sea; I'll never know what that letter said. If it was orders to be carried out, or words of wisdom addressed to me. Before he left he looked at me with the same face seen in most of the infantry when they go off to war; the look of a person only sure of one thing: they may not return home." It felt good to get these words out, still a void sat in his chest swirling in discontent. 

"Anduin, trust in the fact that he was a good man, that he no matter what cared about both you, and his people." The chapel by this time was empty of all except for a few brothers and sisters cleaning. Pulling the prince into an embrace the priestess guarded him as he cried for what felt like the first time. 

"I-I can't even go to visit him! That grave out there is an empty one, same as Bolvar, same as Taylor, Marrad, and so many others! How can they know rest when they never can return to those they loved?"

"They all know peace in the light, Anduin. Surely they do."

"But how do we know that?" The words just came out, and startled both. Anduin's spells were powerful because of his unwavering faith in the Light, but here he was questioning what he has believed in for so long. Addressing the prince, Laurena thought for one moment. 

"Anduin, I believe that meditation would be good for you at the moment. Quiet time alone to think. If you travel to the corridor on the far right of the chapel there is a stairwell leading to a furnished chamber above the chapel's crypts. A perhaps eerie place, but few will bother you." True enough, down the dank grey halls, through the steep stairwell, there came a room of red and green tapestries. Lining the walls were bookshelves and portraits of bishops long since departed, there was a simple oak desk, and no chairs. The room had a smell to it, a place no one came to unless they absolutely wanted to be alone. Sitting in the half lotus position practiced by the traveling monks of Pandaria, Anduin began to search for peace. Try as he might to focus on one fixed spot in the wall, nothing helped the prince. 

With each moment alone with his thoughts everything became darker. No matter what, Anduin believed that people were innately good, but lead off their original course by life's trials. High Priestess Laurena, Bolvar, his father had all faced hardships but had done what was needed in the end. They had acted with their followers best intentions in heart, but where did that lead them? High Priestess Laurena never knows rest, day and night helping others. Bolvar died after years of taking care of Stormwind and keeping 'Lady Katrana' in check. His father… Where was the justice in this world? 

The answer he always told himself came to mind. "They were doing what they loved to do, helping others even through their own pains." 

At this a soft voice came, dripping and oozing with venal promises, "Really? Do you really think they loved those burdens? Mortals are born into this world, have responsibilities placed upon their shoulders at birth, and have their entire lives chosen for them from then on." 

Anduin's head snapped up at that comment. That was not him. Looking around the room, it proved that there was no one in the hallway leading towards the main chapel, or in any of the numerous dark areas in the room. Getting up off the floor, Anduin felt himself gently pulled towards the bookcase towards the furthers wall. It was not so much of a pull but a beaconing feeling, like the unknown was there. Being one for adventure and acting on impulse, he went over to the bookshelf. 

On first glance, the bookshelf would seem like one on display in any church library; at eye level sat ornate, hand written, leather bound librums and texts of all sizes sat, their golden titles lost to age. Pulling out a dark leather text, the book turned out to be one on alchemy and its uses in regards to healing the human body of impurities. As the line carried on the books divulged into lesser known medical procedures of varying credibility: 'Magical Crystals of the Eastern Kingdoms and Their Uses,' '1001 Facts on Herbology,' 'Uses for Gnoll Eyes and Everything In Between.' 'Once you go Black(Dragon) you never go back.'

"No thank you, no light reading for me on that particular subject," tossing 'Uses for Gnoll Eyes and Everything In Between' back onto the shelf, Anduin looked at what else the library had to offer. A few rungs down caught his attention, standing in stark contrast to their gaudy lord-fit counterparts. Now these. Widely differing in ages, some looking to be only a few years old. Each book was covered in leather bindings, it was impossible to know what it was about without unwrapping it. 

"Open it." 

Anduin was too curious about the book the care of what the onlooker wanted; pealing back the leather on an older book showed it to be the personal journal of a past deacon, a man who lived about seventy five years before. The text was in old common, and so would need translating. Rummaging around the room Anduin was able to procure a pen and several sheets of paper before he sat back down with the old book.

Strange, this was the best he'd felt for a while. 

It took a few minutes, but after a while the old translation began to fall into place. The deacon had misspellings and errors running rampant in his work, but it would have to do. After writing down each word, Anduin read the first paragraph of his work.

"Mine studies has't proven the ways of the Light to beest holy and pure, I giveth graces to that which chooseth to bestow upon mine brethren and me this gift. However, for me I findeth myself gifted with another talent the others to not showeth, sight beyond sight, that which is day to night. The evening sky is similar to that which I am at this moment, a burning inferno of purity fading into the oncoming, unstoppable void which is the night. In the Light's divine world thither is a balance between all, animal, plant, human; the world around us is on a narrowly swayed scale allowing for those which rest in the Light's favor to stayeth in the valorous. So, naturally speaking thither should beest an opposite to the Light, a Shadow if 't be true thee wilt. What if 't be true this wast to beest channeled by regular means of the Light's invocation?" 

Alright, that was horrible. Anduin pondered for a moment just how narcissistic the man was, but this was an important, if very dangerous text. This was one of the fist studies done featuring Shadow research! Anduin had always preferred the path of Holy dedication as a priest, but he invoked the shadow when he wanted to. 

There were no windows in the darkened room, and no one came to visit the prince as the hours went on and on. Thinking o himself 'they're surely looking for me up there,' a tiny voice would reply back 'why do their job for them?' And so on he read. Chapters outlining the correct ways to summon the shadow, states in which calling upon the shadow would be ill advised for the user. Once in a while Anduin would add his own notes to the translations: 'likes core hounds,' 'can be tamed firebloom,' or 'all dead.' Soon enough the journal had met its end, and so did the author apparently; on the last page were a few blood splatters and the hurriedly written notes of 'trust no one!' Anduin decided that later he would try out a few shadow spells listed in the book, it wouldn't be smart to set one off in the middle of the largest priest hub this side of Azeroth. Reaching back into the bookshelf Anduin tugged out another leather bound journal. 

"Hmm, 'Ley Lines Between This World and the Next?' Opening up the book showed an ink drawing of three people sitting in a circle by a certain table holding hands. The introduction gave warnings on the unknown, that practitioners be firm in their beliefs, and have good reasons for opening this book. Well, no better reason than a bit of light reading? Communing with the dead is different than summoning the dead, and they always go back to rest afterwards if the seance is concluded in the correct manner. After spending about two hours pouring into the text, an other books of the same manner, Anduin had a list of things he would need.  
\- Salt,  
\- Tall candles,  
\- Incense,  
\- Food,  
\- A pendulum,  
\- And two other people.

Pity he needed two other people. Ignoring the advisory warnings Anduin set up the required items on the table, salt stuffed into a drawer, candles from around the room, incense from the alcove outside, candy from his pocket, and created the pendulum with a gold coin and thread. Sitting down in the dark room, the silence seemed deafening as he began to quietly chant. "Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us." As expected, nothing happened. The candles burned on the same, casting their glow around the room. Anduin knew it wouldn't work, but part of him had truly wanted it to. A whisper floated through, almost to be mistaken for a draft. "Again." 

 

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us." 

The candles did not change. Once again Anduin spoke.

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us."

The candles did not change, Anduin spoke with more vigor.

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us!"

The flame of each candle grew a bit taller, by his breath or magic unknown, Anduin practically yelled the chant again. 

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us!"

The flames grew alongside his voice, the incense's smoke rising to the stone ceiling, filling the room with heady smoke. 

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us!"

Coughing Anduin breathed in the smoke, he refused to acknowledge how tired he was, or how long this was taking, he WOULD see his father. 

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us!"

The draft grew stronger in the room as Anduin's voice became hoarse, still he continued even with tears in his eyes. 

"Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us! Our beloved Varian Wrynn, we bring you gifts from life into death. Commune with us, Varian Wrynn, and move among us! Show me you're here, father!" 

The candles blew out in unison, and the room was plunged into darkness. From the middle of the table a bluish glow emanated. To Anduin's tired eyes it was his father. "Dad, dad! I knew you weren't gone, I knew you were still with me!" The ghost looked sad for a moment, incorporeal lips twisting into a horrific frown. Pulling out the pendulum Anduin began speaking with an almost manic grin, "Swing right for 'Yes,' left for 'No.'" But as quickly as the phantom had appeared it vanished into the air. "No, wait! Wait! Don't leave me again dad! I have so many questions! How am I supposed to lead this country? Is this what it was like when your father passed? Was I a good son? Do you think I can be a good king? Father, please!" To no avail he cried, there was only darkness in that room. There was only Anduin, books, tools, and two voices in that room. There was only darkness.

There was only void.

**Author's Note:**

> I am an atheist trying to write spiritualist horror, please tell me if I got anything wrong, or any little creepy things I should add in the future. 
> 
> (P.S. I wish I could indent on ao3, it stands out at me after writing a few essays.)


End file.
